


Be There

by tclp



Category: Crash Pad (2017), Logan Lucky (2017)
Genre: Bittersweet, Emotional Baggage, Established Relationship, Insecurity, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, kylux adjacent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-25
Updated: 2018-02-25
Packaged: 2019-03-24 00:08:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13799232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tclp/pseuds/tclp
Summary: Clyde and Stensland haven't seen each other in two months. Stensland's visit isn’t quite the happy reunion as they both struggle with what it means to be in a long-distance relationship.





	Be There

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TechieHux](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TechieHux/gifts).



> For Techiehux who sent me the prompt Clydeland + fluffy. It was originally meant as a 3 sentence fic. I don't know how "fluffy" it is in tone. Certainly not as much as Stens' lovely hair.
> 
> All my thanks to [oorsprong](http://archiveofourown.org/users/oorsprong/pseuds/oorsprong) for the beta read, hand-holding, and encouragements when this fic took a sharp turn somewhere and left me scrambling to catch up with the characters.

Clyde nuzzles the hairs trailing down Stensland's stomach. He smells differently than he did two months ago. Now, there's something fresh and a little earthy under Stensland's sweat.

The sheet covering Clyde's head is jerked up, letting in the warm glow of his bedside lamp.

"Wha-what are you doing?"

"Nothin',"Clyde says and kisses the thatch of hair.  

Stensland is still catching his breath, so Clyde thinks he hasn't lingered long enough to make him feel self-conscious. For good measure, he smooths his hand over Stensland's thigh, past his hips, and up to his waist: soothing, showing his appreciation.

"Your hair's gone fluffy."

"Mm. Yes. Miss Watson gives excellent life advice."

Clyde doesn't know who Miss Watson is. With Stensland, it could be anyone from a Soft Solutions client who bought place mats, to a celebrity life coach. Either way, he agrees.

"And I like that, too," Clyde says, reaching up to brush his fingers along Stensland's jaw. Barely more than stubble, but it's soft and Clyde wonders how long it took to grow.

"Lyle calls it my depression beard."

Clyde frowns, doesn't like the sound of that.

"Might be a bit dramatic. More like long-distance-love-affair beard." Stensland's smile doesn't reach his eyes.

Clyde crawls up the bed and gathers Stensland in his arms. "I missed you, too," he says, cutting to the heart of the matter.

They're silent for a time. Clyde fills up on the sensation of his boyfriend pressed against him and tries not to let gloomy thoughts invade the moment. Stensland rubs his stubbly cheek against his shoulder. It drags Clyde away from thoughts of next Tuesday when Stensland will be heading back to Seattle.

Soon, Stensland is squirming against him, his legs restless under the sheet: a clear sign he's working up to something.

"Hmm?"

Stensland sighs. His head falls back on the pillow and Clyde already wants him back, closer.

"I'm not sure I like it. The long-distance-love-affair beard," Stensland clarifies, scratching at his cheek. A beat, then, "Or the long distance love affair."

There's an unpleasant sensation in Clyde's stomach. Like when Mellie pushes her car fifty miles over the limit: dread and that damn helpless feeling like there's nothing he can do even if he sees the crash coming.

"What do you wanna do about it?"

Clyde tries to relax his fingers on Stensland's waist, makes a conscious effort to be open to whatever he wants.

"I don't know. I should've shaved before hopping on the plane. It's a sad and pathetic display."

Clyde bends to drop a kiss on the crease between his eyebrows. "You know that's not what I'm talkin' about."

"I'm no good at taking care of myself when I'm pining and sad."

Clyde watches Stensland's fingers pick the quilt. He remembers how he was his first year back. He hadn't been careful with his first prosthetic. Told the doctor it felt fine because, in that sterile office, he hadn't felt much of anything other than the desire to go back home. Then, he'd skipped the follow-up appointments. He'd developed eczema and couldn't help picking at the sore skin.

It had gotten worse from there.

Jimmy and Mellie had been there for him, though. Dragged him down to the VA hospital in Clarksburg.

"Neither am I. But it helps to have people around."

Stensland smiles, but it's sad. All his smiles have been sad or forced since he got here, Clyde realizes.

This is happening.

"Darling," Stensland whispers, touching Clyde's face before pulling him down. Clyde settles his head on Stensland's chest, rubs the tears away against his skin. Skin that's still flushed. "I—. This is the only time you'll hear me say this, but I know life isn't really a romantic comedy." The attempt at humor falls flat and Stensland's chuckle is hollow. "As much as I'd love to say, 'Your love will fix me', this is something I need to figure out."

Clyde tries to gather his thoughts. The entire evening took a sharp turn somewhere, left him scattered. It's like he's been losing bits of himself and Stensland since yesterday. A piece left at the airport for Stensland's sad, teary smile; a few others on the drive home when Stensland didn't want to stop for milkshakes.

Clyde knows, even after Stensland leaves, he'll find bits of them in every room. Worse, he has no hope of fitting them back together: he can't do that on his own.

"Stens—."

"Maybe once I'm more—. Once I'm better, more… Not that I expect you to wait."

Clyde rises on his elbows. He frowns down at Stensland, can't believe what he just heard.

"So what? You want to live like a hermit? Read self-help books, study _Dawson's Creek_ until you're the perfect boyfriend and ready for the world?  Can't be good at relationships if you're not _in_ one."

Stensland sits up, angrily pushing Clyde to his side of the bed. He crosses his arms over his chest, defensive, but doesn't leave the bed. It gives Clyde a bit of hope.

"It's just the distance, right?" Clyde asks.

"We barely see each other. I don't want you to spend our time together trying to fix me."

"I'm not suggesting we do that. You don't _need_ fixin'."

"Then what did you mean by 'it helps to have people around'?"

Clyde thinks back and wonders where this is all coming from.

Oh.

Stensland doesn't talk about family. Or he does, but only in facts—his mother loved those little cinnamon hearts stores carry around Valentine's Day. His father always forgot his cup of coffee on Saturday mornings, too busy reading the newspaper. He would inevitably drink it cold—not like they were people in Stensland's life. Not like family.

Clyde doesn't know who picked him up from school, or who taught him how to ride a bike.

He'd realized it a while back, during one of their Skype session, but didn't want to pry unless Stensland gave him an opening.

"Just…friends, coworkers, neighbors. People for support. Not people to change you."

Stensland observes him for a time.

"You don't want to change me?"

"No."

"Oh."

"But—." Clyde's been chewing on this for a while. He hopes he's wrong, but needs to know for sure. "If you're looking for an excuse for us not to work, now's the time to say."

Clyde flinches internally. He had something less confrontational planned, but in the heat of the argument, still angry, he's blunt.

For all that he's a romantic, the way Stensland talks about past relationships… they'd all seemed doomed from the start. Maybe hindsight colors the way he talks about his exes, but Clyde has to wonder if it's something else. Has to wonder if Stensland's interest in him was in part due to Clyde living halfway across the country.

"What are you talking about?"

"I don't want to be another story about how you can't find love. An excuse to mope on your couch for weeks."

…And now he's made a right mess of things.

"Hey!" Stensland leaves the bed this time, dragging the quilt along with him and holding it like a shield.

"Don't use Morgan against me like that. I didn't know she was married. I got attached. Of course it was a rude awakening. I'm not some unfeeling meat-puppet, Mister!"

Stensland paces by the side of the bed, wrapping the blanket around himself with an affronted toss. It makes Clyde's chest ache, something so small and so very Stensland.

"Sure, three days is quick to form an attachment. But I'm an all-in kind of guy…" He glances to the side at Clyde. "It took us what? An evening? I— That wasn't just me, was it?"

"An evening," Clyde agrees. Though it's been months of cataloguing every favourite turn of phrase, mannerism, ticklish spot, and different shades of flush. Clyde swallows thickly.

"You're not an excuse to me."

"You say you want a relationship. That you want to try, make it work long-distance," Clyde says slowly, taking the time to recall details of past conversations. "But you came here all ready to end things."

"No, that's…" Stensland drifts off. He seems lost in confusion.

Clyde is ready to bet he hadn't realized what he was doing.

"I don't want to be another of your tragic failed relationship." Clyde clears his throat, pushes back the hair hanging in his face. "Don't use me to prove to yourself you can't be loved. That ain't fair."

"Right, no. I'm cru—." Stensland bites his lips. He looks a little horrified and Clyde wonders what he was about to say. Something tells him he doesn't want to know.

"You're lovable."

Stensland's entire body stutters.

"Say it again?"

"You're lovable."

Stensland jumps back onto the bed and straddles Clyde. He opens his arms wide, stretching the quilt to wrap it securely around them both. He looks like a bird swinging down on prey. Or maybe like Bela Lugosi with that serious look on his face.

"You're lovable, too."

Clyde's not sure what to say. The feeling of being scattered isn't gone, exactly. It's more like all his parts have been put back in a jumble and he's not sure how they will all move together, yet.

"It wasn't on purpose."

"I know."

It doesn't make him feel any less used, but, at least, it's not all Stensland makes him feel.

Clyde doesn't want to say _I love you_ , though. Not now, after an argument when he's feeling it like a wound. That wouldn't be fair to Stensland.

They sit in bed for a time. Stensland's hands just on the painful side of clinging as Clyde bends his knees, drawing him closer against his chest, holding him steady.

In the warmth of the cocoon, they slowly come down. When Stensland relaxes against him, Clyde frees his hand to pet his hair. It's ruffled from sex and rolling around in bed, as soft as Clyde remembers.

Clyde must have been dozing because he startles when Stensland whispers, "What are we going to do about living in different States?"

"I don't know."

Not that many options.

Clyde draws back to catch his gaze. He fight the urge to duck behind his hair and Stensland brushes his fingers in Clyde's hair, helps him keep steady in his resolve.

"I figure the point is to spend time together. Be there for the other."

Stensland nods. "And cuddle. I definitely need more cuddles."

His laughter puffs against Stensland's skin. "Me too."

Stensland smiles back and Clyde feels a little awkward at the intensity. He's not used to that kind of joy being directed at him.

He nuzzles Stensland's cheek: a silent request and Stensland turns his head to catch his lips. It's slow and more a press of lips than skill, but Clyde can't manage much more with the way his body quivers, wrapped around Stensland.

Stensland smooths his hands down Clyde's shoulders, grounding him. He's a good kisser and Clyde lets him take the lead, opens his mouth to the wet slide of his tongue.

Stensland will be here for another six days. Time enough to figure it out.

**Author's Note:**

> Stensland is an Emma Watson fan and decided to follow her beauty tips. He uses fur oil on all his hairy bits. (I'm so sorry.)


End file.
